


riviera

by fiveblessings



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Infidelity, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Trophy Husband!Taeyong, sorry kaiyongists this one probably isn’t for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveblessings/pseuds/fiveblessings
Summary: Though it’s changed shape many times, ambition is something Taeyong’s never been short of and recently his ambitions have shifted once again. Even when his husband gives him everything he could ever ask for he still yearns for more, for something else.Something else coming in the form of Johnny Suh.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Lee Taeyong, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 32
Kudos: 238





	riviera

**Author's Note:**

> those tiger inside taeyong teaser pics and johnny's w korea photoshoot had me acting up so bad oml
> 
> sorry for any mistakes my grammarly didn't wanna play nice with me :((

The hills are breathtaking in the evening, Taeyong had used to think when he was still new to Los Angeles, fresh-faced and full of wonderment but these days he can barely bother a glance over the frames of his sunglasses at the stunning view. He sees it every day from the view of their villa, an opulent manor nested at the top of Beverly Hills lording over the suburbs below, now the scape around him has just lost its charm.

When Taeyong had first met his husband 6 years ago he had fallen fast. Jongin was handsome, charismatic and filthy, filthy rich, it wasn’t long before Taeyong was dressed in his diamonds and spread out on his bed. He was weak to his charms, oh so naive but what could be expected from a 19-year-old college student struggling to pay his rent. 

He was a scrappy little thing back then, taking what was given and then taking some more and when a rich man walks into your life and tells you he’ll take away all your worries so long as he can call you his, well, what could Taeyong dream of saying but yes. 

When they’d married barely a year later Taeyong was happy, how couldn’t he be as his mother smiled at him from the front row, dressed in Chanel that someone else had paid for. In all his youth and innocence he’d felt like he’d earnt something, he had worth even if it was vicarious. It was bliss if he let himself believe it was, his husband was kind enough and always bought him gifts, always had him enter the room first for whatever event he was scheduled to attend and always railed him hard and fast afterwards just how Taeyong liked it.

And god, he fucked him well. The 15 years Jongin had on him didn’t bother him in the slightest, if anything it only made his desire burn stronger. His husband’s age gave him such a strong facade of power and importance that he could make Taeyong scream with just a touch. The thought of an older lover had always riled him up, the sheer amount of crushes a young Taeyong had had on his friend's parents had told him as much but Jongin had an edge to him that suburban dad’s and high school teachers egregiously lacked, something that made Taeyong stupid enough to throw all his plans down the drain and follow him wherever he asked. 

Taeyong hadn’t stepped out of high school with his goal set on finding a rich man to fuck and settle down as a trophy husband at far too young an age but those were cards he’d been dealt and Taeyong has always been far too greedy to say no. He’d slutted around enough before he met Jongin to know that this man was a catch, a filthy mouth, rough hands and a cock so big Taeyong used to dream about it, sitting in his lectures in the panties he’d bought for him.

It probably wasn’t love that had formed between them but perhaps some twisted version of it, more akin to desire than romantic affection. Taeyong was too young and dumb to know back then but it’s obvious to him now, Jongin had wanted to own him, show him off like a pretty ornament and Taeyong had been more than happy to belong.

In a way he liked it, more than that, he craved it. The feeling of eyes burning on him, wanting what they can’t have, Taeyong’s a million-dollar painting, he’s artwork that everyone wants to possess and boast about. Taeyong likes that, that everyone can look but can’t touch and after all, what self-respecting husband would allow Taeyong to go crawling into another man’s bed if they looked at him the right way.

It’s a comfortable life, sure he had aspirations for himself after college but was it really worth the stress of working life when Taeyong is given everything he asks for in return for a few hours hanging of Jongin’s arm and a few more in his bed being ploughed in his sheets, every action a transaction and Taeyong’s body, his pretty smile and tiny waist, this was his currency. It was more than a good deal if you asked Taeyong. 

These days though, as the years begin to drag on, the novelty has started to wear off. The new jewellery and pretty clothes lose the appeal when there’s no one to show off to, and with Jongin’s business trips becoming longer and more frequent leaving Taeyong’s hours lounging at their poolside extended instead of giving eyes to some stranger at some mindless social event whilst his husband’s hand is still planted on his ass. 

Taeyong’s not the first pretty doll to have taken Jongin’s fancy and he certainly won’t be the last, this is no matter to Taeyong so long as he remains the only one with his ring on his finger but what’s the point of their vows is Jongin never bothers to flaunt him anymore. He looks so good decked out in designer boutique, so good adorned by the pretty frills of expensive lingerie, so good in nothing at all but no one even gets to look at him anymore, cooped up in their mansion like last season’s wardrobe. 

Though it’s changed its shape many times, ambition is something Taeyong’s been short of and recently his ambitions have shifted once again. Even with everything he could ever ask for he still yearns for more, for something else.

Something else coming in the form of Johnny Suh.

He’d first met the illustrious man, or rather his husband met him and by default, Taeyong was introduced, at a charity gala the details of which Taeyong hadn’t bothered learning. Sitting pretty in black and white, Johnny had made himself known to him,  _ we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other I expect _ , Johnny had said, tame smile and eyes narrowed as they scanned up and down Taeyong’s suited body held close to his husband’s side,  _ I’ll be moving in across from you come spring _ .

And true to his word, Taeyong had. Captivated from the first second he couldn’t help spying into his property the days after Johnny had moved in, hours spent prowling his boudoir's balcony aching for just a glimpse of him, his new obsession.

He knows Johnny and Jongin are friends or at least aquaintances, at least that’s the act they maintain. They’re close enough in age to get along without too much trouble and from what Taeyong’s gathered, Johnny’s the type of person you’d want people to see you getting along with, a man who holds power with every breath, a single word from those curved lips could be your biggest blessing or your final curse.

Through open ears and whispers, Taeyong learnt that Johnny moved to the villa nearest to them shortly after his divorce was finalised, his ex-wife had been important enough that even Taeyong had bothered to learn her name but following their little scandal she’s drifted all but into obscurity, her husband climbing up their annulment as if it were a ladder at the woman’s expense. 

In all honesty, Taeyong has no idea how Johnny came to acquire such enormous wealth in the first place. The sure almost arrogant set of his wide shoulders and that smirk that’s always on his lips makes it seem as though he was born into money, expensive habits wired into his DNA but he’s got a ruthless edge to him, the unyielding drive of a man that’s had to claw his way to the top, that makes Taeyong think differently. Perhaps it’s better Johnny’s history stays unknown for now, all playing into the mysterious front that drew Taeyong in the first place.

As his husband’s favour waned, it’s been a long time since Taeyong’s felt anything but tepid emotions until Johnny, Johnny who makes his insides burn with just a well-crafted look, the brush of his fingers against his wrist. Taeyong would kill just to reach out and grab hold but that’s the only thing that’s forbidden to him, it’s his job to sit pretty and put out for his husband, not to lust over another man whilst Jongin’s hand drags along the inside of his thigh.

It’s been almost a month since Johnny had settled into his new property, weather now creeping steadily into the throws of summer, when Jongin tells Taeyong about their invitation.  _ A housewarming party of sorts _ , he’d said over the rim of his coffee cup,  _ I’ll have to buy you something pretty to wear _ .

Now in Johnny’s kitchen, decked in the newest season of Versace, Taeyong’s back in his element. His skirt is comically short, he’d picked it with Johnny in mind Matte black and free of creases, it rounds his hips cinching dramatically at his waist, the sharp tailoring of his black suit had caught Johnny's attention last time and Taeyong wanted to test him, albeit subtly, show him just how far he was willing to go.

It’s Taeyong that spots him first, leaning casually against a kitchen island. Fitted black slacks on long legs, not unlike the ones Taeyong had worn the first time he’d caught his eye but a lower rise, fitted just on the bones of his hips. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows exposing his toned forearms, veins prominent as he raises the glass of red he’s holding to cat-like lips. It looks as though he’s had his eyes on the couple since they walked in, just waiting for the moment to pounce and Taeyong has just given him his opening, Johnny excusing himself from his current conversation before ditching his own glass and securing another from a passing waitstaff. 

His eyes are on Taeyong as he walks over but it’s his husband he addresses. “Jongin! Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Jongin takes a long sip from the glass he’s offered. “You’ve got an impressive guest list.”

“Ah, you know how these things are." Artfully humble. "Tell me how you’ve been?”

“Work’s been busy these days, you know how it gets,” Jongin hums, his arm wraps so easily around Taeyong’s petit waist, hand smoothing down the front of his thigh and playing with the hem of his skirt. “I should thank you, you know, for giving me an excuse to take my Taeyong out.”

Taeyong knows better than to snort but he damn well wants to, since when was Jongin dressing him up and dragging him across the street spoiling him when the real treat; finally getting Johnny’s eyes on him, is one Jongin’s unaware of.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Johnny looking at Taeyong again, as if he never looked away, it’s a hard feat to make Taeyong blush but his words, his gaze, makes it far too easy. “You should let me show him around, we’re neighbours now after all.”

“Sure.” The arm’s slipping off his waist and slapping his ass, urging Taeyong forward. “Baekhyun’s been eyeing me up for a chat all night. You go play darling, it’ll only bore you.”

Johnny’s arm is thick, corded muscle linking around his own thinner limb. Heavens, the man is tall, he’s got inches on Taeyong even in his stilettos both in height and likely where it matters too, judging by the silhouette in his pants Taeyong had been spying glances at earlier.

“I thought I’d show you up here first.” He’s taking him up winding stairs to the third floor, pushing open a door to the west side of the house. Taeyong’s heart jumps when he realises he’s been led into a bedroom but Johnny keeps walking through open glass doors till there on a balcony, the only one on this side of the house still unoccupied it seems.

“Stunning.” And it is, the views similar to that from Taeyong’s own window but from here the light of the sunset shines a little different, brighter and more alluring.

“It is, isn’t it.” Johnny’s come to stand beside him but his hands are oh his hips rather than the balustrade, eyes pinned on the back of Taeyong’s head. 

“There’s such a good view into your garden here, did you know? I wonder, why did you get rid of the trees between the houses?”

“They blocked out the sun.” It’s a lie, Taeyong had asked for the tall trees on their boundary to be removed a few weeks ago so he could get a better eye into Johnny’s territory, Jongin had easily conceded.

“It’s such a shame your husband doesn’t take you out more often Taeyong, I’ve seen you in your garden, you’re such a sight.”

Johnny’s playing a dangerous game, anyone could look up and see him with his hands on another man’s husband while said spouse mingles downstairs but it doesn’t put him off, only encourages him. His excitement is almost infectious though, and Taeyong’s always loved the thrill of a challenge.

“You’ve seen me?” Head tilted to the side, Taeyong can just see Johnny’s face. He has that smug grin on his lips like usual and something darker creeping behind his eyes.

“How could I not? It’s such a pretty dress you’re in tonight but I’ve seen you look pretty in far less.”

Taeyong knows perfectly what he means. LA’s only getting hotter and most days Taeyong finds himself laid bare at his poolside. Sometimes he’d think about Johnny would think if he saw him, his long legs and the curve of his ass exposed in his direction, the rush of knowing his efforts didn’t go to waste has Taeyong suppressing a shiver.

“I’m glad you think I look pretty. I dressed up for you tonight.”

Johnny just laughs. “I can’t decide who’s luckier, me or your husband.”

“I’d like it to be you.” 

Taeyong lays his hand on top of the larger one on his hip, lacing their fingers and tightening their joint grip. All the gaps feel like they’re closing, the distance between Johnny’s front and his back narrowing as the older man leans in close to his ear. 

“Make sure it's me you think of when your husband fucks you in that little skirt tonight then.”  And just as quickly, he’s pulling away, Taeyong’s wrist in his hand as he tugs him back downstairs to face the music.

Jongin finds him quickly after Johnny leaves him back on the ground floor, Taeyong hopes he wasn’t looking for him but by the looks of his face he hadn’t missed him too much, just his unconcious craving to have his arm around his pretty doll’s waist.

It’s Taeyong that drags him out not long after, etiquette be damned. He’s intoxicated by the lustful stares on him all night but more by Johnny, Johnny’s narrowed eyes on his bare legs, Johnny’s rough voice whispering crude words in his ear no qualms about the gold band on Taeyong’s finger. How he’d moved Taeyong so easily, made him feel so tiny in his grip.

He’s already hard and flustered when Jongin lets them back into their own house, so much so he only makes it through to the kitchen before he’s tugging at the lapels of Jongin’s shirt, urging him to press him back into the worktop behind him.

Jongin takes the bait as easy as he always does, hurried, wet kisses on his mouth trailing down to his neck when Taeyong gets too breathless to reciprocate. It’s a little struggle with how hazy Taeyong’s head is but he manages to undo Jongin’s pants, pulling out his heavy cock and stroking him till he’s hot and hard against his small palm.

The air’s hot around them as Jongin’s spinning him around, roughly pushing his torso so it’s flush against the kitchen island he was just being pressed into, only the thin barrier of his baby blue shirt keeping his burning skin from touching the cold granite. His skirts being hiked up around his waist, an easy enough job considering how short it was, and his panties are pushed down his legs catching on the heels still strapped to his feet.

Whilst Jongin rushes to grab some lube from the next room, Taeyong lets his cheek rest on the surface below him, catching his breath before it’s fucked out of him again. It’s just like Johnny’s, he thinks, kitchen styled in a similar way to the one he’d been standing in minutes ago. When his eyes get blurred by his tears later it’ll be like he’s still there being debauched over Johnny’s furniture instead of his own.

“What has you so riled up tonight?” Jongin’s wet finger starts pressing into his hole. It’s not slow, it never is.

“Looked so good tonight.” And Johnny had, dark brown hair brushed back off his forehead, loose strands falling in front of his eyes. Long legs and,  _ god _ , those thighs wrapped in black slacks. His whole style was eerily similar, a cruel mockery of his husband's own dress.

“you looked prettier, my doll.” Two fingers now, his knuckles catching on his rim, pushing lube out and down his thighs. “My perfect angel.”

Taeyong might have laughed if he wasn’t too busy moaning, shrill cries echoing up the high ceilings as Jongin’s fingers pry him open. What would Jongin think knowing perfect angel was thinking about someone else’s fingers, thicker and longer, fingering him apart instead, another man’s cock pressed against his ass cheek where Jongin’s lies.

“Please, please, I need you to fuck me.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Yes,  _ god _ , I need you inside now.”  _ Johnny _ . The name almost slips out as he begs for Jongin’s cock, desire weighing heavy on his tongue like a gag.

It’s too rushed, Jongin’s right, but Taeyong likes it, the pleasure and burn as his thick cock presses in deeper and deeper, a neverending sensation. Despite the tightness, Taeyong’s wet enough to make the slide work, his hole loosening with each powerful thrust Jongin delivers.

“You’re acting like such a whore, I bet you wouldn’t have even minded if I bent you over in Johnny’s house, would have just taken it wouldn’t you?”

Taeyong’s almost screaming now, moans a garbled mess as his face rubs against the worktop. Yes, he would have, would have let Jongin defile him in an almost stranger’s not for whatever exhibitionistic tendencies Jongin thinks are fuelling him but for the thrill of Johnny see him this way, how much Johnny’s effecting him that he’s the only thing Taeyong can think about even when another man’s inside of him.

The pace is frantic, Taeyong’s legs shaking where he tries his best to balance on his heels. One of Jongin’s hands is pressing him firmly down from the small of his back while the other grips his ass, pulling his cheeks apart to watch his cock slide into Taeyong.

He’s talking, spewing filthy words about how loose Taeyong is, how much of a slut he’s being, but Taeyong can’t focus over the ringing in his ears, his mind screaming, an overwhelming mantra of  _ Johnny, Johnny, Johnny _ .

Would Johnny’s feel like Jongin’s if he was fucking him? Would he be bigger? Faster? No, Taeyong imagines he’d tease, pushing Taeyong right to the precipice before pulling him back just before he falls, play with his body till he’s shaking and screaming for his release before he finally gives him his release.

Taeyong’s reaching behind himself, weak grip pulling Jongin’s hand off his ass and stuffing his fingers in his mouth. A part of him wants to find out how Jongin would react if it was his friend’s name he screamed instead of his when he came but that’s not the game Taeyong wants to play, it would ruin his fun before it could even begin. Instead the only noises escaping his mouth are muffled cries and wet sounds as Taeyong wetly sucks on the digits pressing down on his tongue.

It’s a little embarrassing how quickly Taeyong’s coming, release spreading onto the cabinets in front of him without so much as a hand on his aching cock. Jongin doesn’t slow down, thrusts becoming a little sloppy but no less fast as he fucks Taeyong through the aftershocks.

“Come inside, Don’t ruin my skirt.” He’s not sure why he says it but even in his fucked out daze, a part of Taeyong recognises his outfit as Johnny’s. It doesn’t matter that his husband’s money paid for it, he wore it for Johnny and he doesn’t want anyone else ruining it.

Jongin grunts a little before he’s filling Taeyong, warmth painting his walls and starting to drip down his thighs as he pulls out. It’s a wonder Taeyong manages to keep standing as Jongin’s hand removes itself from his back, reaching for his own jacket to clean Taeyong up as best he can whilst he lies panting and ruined.

They don’t say much more afterwards, they hardly ever do, as Jongin carries Taeyong upstairs and undresses him as delicately as he can manage. It’s always nice, a husband who bothers to wipe his cum off of you after he’s finished railing you, no matter if they sleep on different sides of the bed.

  
  
  
  


Taeyong learns a week or two later from conversations in between Jongin’s frequent business trips that Johnny’s actually close friends with Jongin’s business partner, Sehun, graduating from the same university just a year after him. It’s a surprise knowing this, that Taeyong had never come into acquaintance with Johnny before but perhaps that speaks more of Johnny’s enigmatic nature than Taeyong’s sociability.

It’s Saturday afternoon now, Jongin had returned from wherever the fuck he’d been that week with Sehun in tow, saying something about celebrating the good week and the good weather. That’s how the three of them had ended up on their deck, lighting up and drinking around Taeyong’s overpriced poolside furniture.

Taeyong’s bored, to put it lightly. Jongin and Sehun are perfectly happy to converse without Taeyong’s input. At least it’s better than whatever god awful spin class he was supposed to be wasting his time at today, instead perched on Jongin’s thigh hot summer breeze warming his sedentary frame.

He’d been paddling that afternoon in a little one piece swimsuit with a hole cut out on the stomach. Still damp, the water leeches out of the fabric onto his green robe and further through onto Jongin’s shorts, not that the older man seems to care, he hasn’t shown much interest in Taeyong safe from physical since he pulled him into his lap.

So disengaged, Taeyong could probably fall asleep under the disguise of his sunglasses, breathing in the swirls of second-hand smoke from their blunts but god is he glad he didn’t when a third voice breaks through from the glass doors of the kitchen rousing Taeyong instantly.

“Mind if I join you?”

He looks even taller, gazing up at Johnny from this angle, the sun lighting up his hair like strung gold. Everything about Johnny seems golden, extravagant and untouchable. He puts the gold band on Taeyong’s finger to shame.

“Johnny! I was wondering when you’d come.” Jongin doesn’t seem surprised at all, probably expecting Johnny and telling the staff to let him right through. “Come sit!”

“Johnny, shall I get you a drink?” There’s no need for Taeyong to offer, the house staff present this afternoon are perfectly capable but Taeyong’s already sliding off of Jongin’s lap.

“Sure. Why don’t you surprise me.”

Rather than give Johnny the pleasure of seeing Taeyong cheeks light up with blush, he turns his back towards them, making his way into the kitchen.

Surprise Johnny? Taeyong’s pretty sure he’d have to take some extreme measures just to phase the man, always perfectly collected. The man had been drinking red the last time he’d seen him, that probably Taeyong’s best bet at a starting point.

In the end Taeyong finds himself in their cellar. Jongin has a pretty impressive collection of wine, hell, some of these bottles have probably been in his possession longer than Taeyong. Perhaps a little embarrassingly, Taeyong’s own knowledge on the subject is woefully lacking, he’ll usually let Jongin have the smug pleasure of ordering his drinks at restaurants.

It’s a fun game, walking alongside the tall racks and dragging his fingers over the ornate labels. He’ll pick whichever looks most expensive, that’ll amuse Johnny at least, seeing the mild horror on Jongin’s face as he cracks open the prized items of his collection.

“Trouble deciding?” 

How a man with as big a presence as Johnny manages to creep up on Taeyong so well is beyond him, leaning on the wall by the stairs with his arms crossed over his loosely buttoned hawaiian shirt. Taeyong copies his stance, crossing his arms yet the effect is different, he feels like a petulant child when under Johnny’s powerful aura.

“Do you have a recommendation?”

“I told you, Mr Kim. Surprise me.”

For some reason the comment makes Taeyong’s blood burn. “It’s Mr Lee, I didn’t take his name.”

“You’d best be careful then, Taeyong. I might forget who you belong to.” His loafers tap lightly on the wood as he makes his way up the stairs, one calculated glance back before he’s out of sight, back into the light.

It’s all-encompassing, the urge to rush after Johnny and drag him back down into the dim light, pull his hands onto his body and let him do as he pleases. No one would even hear them down here, Johnny could take him apart piece by piece and the men upstairs would be none the wiser. The suspicion would mount though, that’s the only thing coaxing Taeyong back to the guests grabbing the first bottle his hand meets, it would be such a shame to ruin things before the fun can even start.

Back in the sun, Johnny’s situated himself on the opposite side of the table to Jongin and Sehun, legs spread just enough that his shorts have started to ride up his muscled thighs. Jongin must have rolled him a blunt while Taeyong was inside as the paper’s now hanging casually between his long fingers.

Jongin raises an eyebrow when Taeyong bypasses his lap for the seat at Johnny’s left but doesn’t bother saying anything, probably too high to care, turning back to the others as Taeyong wrestles with the cork plugged in the bottle.

“Here, let me.” Johnny’s hand is outstretched and Taeyong cedes the bottle easily, if only just to see Johnny’s biceps flex under the cropped sleeves of his shirt. He pours his own glass and a second for Taeyong, sliding it along the table by the base without even shifting his eyes.

“Don’t spill Taeyong, I’d hate for you to have an accident.”  As quick as Johnny's there leaning towards Taeyong’s ear he’s gone again, blunt back between his lips and absorbed in a conversation Taeyong’s too preoccupied to even feign interest in. His fingers feel damp as they grip the stem even though the water from the pool dried off his skin ages ago.

Observing Johnny’s side profile, he’s difficult for Taeyong to read. Unlike Jongin, who’d been an open book just as Taeyong had been back then both their desires clear as day, Johnny possesses a certain tact that Jongin hadn’t, there’s a puzzle about him that Taeyong’s not quite sure how to solve. It's both infuriating and electrifying, makes him want to throw away the shallow weight of his decorum just to see if his expression would change.

For the seat Johnny’s chosen, you can see perfectly the balcony Johnny had taken Taeyong to that fateful night, Tasting briefly wonders if he’d chosen this seat on purpose before he realises of course he has, every action Johnny makes feels like a chess move, cool and calculated, leaving everyone else ten steps behind.

It’s far too easy to zone out again. Under the oppressive heat, Johnny has unbuttoned his shirt all the way letting the lapels flutter over his firm abs now blissfully exposed for Taeyong’s roaming eyes. The shades of his glasses are dark enough that Taeyong’s gaze can wander freely over the tanned planes of Johnny’s chest with Jongin just metres away being none the wiser.

Thank god he’s drunk enough of his wine that there’s not enough left to spill over the glasses edge when Taeyong’s body jerks forward. Johnny barely even flinches even though it’s his own hand casually placed on Taeyong’s thigh that triggered the movement.

“Are you alright, Taeyong?” Mild concern paints Jongin’s face, noticing the commotion, the joint he’s been smoking dangling between his fingers.

“Hm? Yeah, just a mosquito.” His voice is a little thick, wine or anticipation coating his throat. 

Johnny’s not the slightest bit disturbed by Jongin’s question, his thumb starting to rub circles into Taeyong’s goosebumped skin. They’re close enough to the table that Jongin and Sehun won’t be aware of his ministrations but if they were to lean back just a few inches Taeyong’s unfaithfulness would be laid bare under the burning sun.

All of a sudden it feels as though the alcohol has rushed to Taeyong’s head, a heady fog slowing down the world around him. Johnny’s hand is the only thing grounding him, pulling all his fly-away attention to one spot. His fingertips are firm, pressing small dimples as he lightly massages into his skin. Slowly and surely they creep up, starting midway and ending up with his thumb dragging the hem of Taeyong’s swimsuit cut scantily at the crease of his thigh.

“Jongin, don’t be so greedy. Poor Taeyong hasn’t had a single drag.” Johnny’s not looking at Jongin though, his cheshire cat grin pinned on Taeyong. It’s an obvious challenge that Taeyong’s all too eager to accept. One last heavy look at Johnny over the rim of his shades and he’s leaning forward.

“Johnny’s right, baby. Aren’t you going to share?” It’s not Taeyong’s hand that’s reaching out for the blunt though. Chin resting on his hands propped up by his elbows on the table, Taeyong pouts in his husband’s direction. 

Jongin catches the invitation in his pursed lips, taking a long drag before leaning in to meet him. Just as his mouth presses against Taeyong’s, Johnny’s hand shifts, heel of his palm creeping towards his crotch and lazily dragging over his clothed cock. Taeyong gasps, lips parting and Jongin dives in, wet lips locking as he lets the smoke drift between them.

The smoke curls over Taeyong’s tongue and down his throat as heady and rough as the fingers tracing the outline of his length through thin lycra. It threatens to choke him as Taeyong’s inhale catches, his barely suppressed response to the hot drag played out against his husband's lips.

Taeyong’s lips are slick when they part, the pretty shade of pink darkening to a red that complements the flush building on the high of his cheekbones. 

“Wait there, babe. I’ll roll you your own.” Jongin’s chair scrapes back on the dark slate, a kiss pressed into Taeyong’s cheek before he's heading inside for more bud.

It feels as though the vapour settles into Taeyong’s lungs as he leans back into his seat, creeping down his limbs to his fingertips sparking like lightning, maybe that’s not the drugs though but Johnny, rough digits sending fireworks through his stimulated nerves whilst his limbs become to heavy to fight it.

Just as Sehun’s head turns to call something to Jongin, Johnny’s up close, low whispers in the shell of Taeyong’s ear. “You look pretty in pink, I’d like to see you in more.”

“In more or less?”

The older man merely smiles and leans back as if sensing Sehun’s bored eyes swinging towards them with Jongin walking back in tow. A lit blunt is being slipped between his shallowly parted lips and Johnny’s hand is back, slow grinds against his crotch that have Taeyong hardening quickly.

“Johnny, do look after my Taeyong, he’s such a lightweight.”

Johnny laughs airly but the grip on his cock is anything but kind, nasty grip over where Taeyong’s now half mast and twitching. Jongin’s right, Taeyong does lose his sobriety quickly and today’s no exception, if anything his composure is slipping faster this morning vapour filling his lungs twice as fast where Johnny’s ministrations have him borderline panting. 

His little jerks and reactions to Johnny’s palm pressing against him get more and more sluggish as his body starts to feel heavier but his mind still possesses some strange form of clarity, processing Johnny’s actions in perfect clarity. Johnny sees his relaxed posture as an excuse to pick up the pace, fingers curling over the silhouette of his cock as if there was no fabric between them and tugging, a long and slow movement so the other two don’t notice the flex of his forearm where it peaks over the table's edge.

It’s just as well Taeyong can’t find the strength to move because if he could he’d surely be trying to buck up into Johnny’s slow jerks. Taeyong has a petit frame and naturally it’s no different elsewhere but Johnny's large hand can almost too easily cover the full length of Taeyong’s cock. It makes Taeyong shudder, everything about Johnny makes him feel impossibly small and delicate from his stature to his demeanour.

His thumb keeps dipping under the high rise of his swimsuit and dragging along the side of his length all the while completely calm, Talking across the table as if he isn’t wearing Taeyong’s wavering composure till it’s wafer thin.

Taeyong doesn’t dare take the blunt from his lips for too long, scared it's the only barrier between him moaning out from Johnny’s hands. The downside is that it’s burning down devastatingly quickly, the smoldering end heating Taeyong’s fingertips where he refuses to let go. 

In the end it’s Johnny who pries the stub from his hands before it can burn him, leaning forward and filling Taeyong’s right field till everything else in his periphery blurs away. In his dazed state his vision tunnels on Johnny’s lips without thought, watching speechlessly as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip all the while jerking Taeyong off under the table at a snail's pace.

“Jongin’s right, you are a lightweight.” Taeyong’s hand hovers in the air by his lips where he was just holding the blunt before Johnny’s throwing the butt into the ashtray and dragging his hand down by his wrist. “Perhaps you should slow down for now.”

The thumb under his clothes is ghosting over the tip of his cock before suddenly Johnny’s whole hand is withdrawing, leaving Taeyong shivering as he melts into the back of his chair, tension he hadn’t felt building releasing but not in the way Taeyong was craving. Without Johnny’s hand playing with him there’s nothing to distract him from the wet patch that’s formed on his front where his leaking tip is pressed into the fabric.

Jongin gives him a strange look as Taeyong lets out a frustrated breath but other than that he looks none the wiser. For some reason it infuriates him, Jongin unknowingly edging him on. How loud would Taeyong have to start moaning before he looked at him and Johnny twice. A growing self-destructive part of Taeyong wants him to scream something but Johnny’s phone is buzzing, breaking him out of his daze before he can do something he regrets.

“Ahh, I have to head out, Jongin. I’m needed elsewhere.” Johnny says apologetically, rising to his feet. “Taeyong, would you show me to the door?”

Taeyong doesn’t even realise he’s being spoken to till Jongin’s answering affirmative for him. Wrapping his robe over his lower half to hide his hard-on as best as he can before standing on lightly shaking legs. It’s not far through the house to the front door but to Taeyong it feels like a trek, ears ringing with the muted sounds of each step. Once he reaches the door he stops, turning to face the man silently following him. 

“Did it feel good? Touching something that isn’t yours?” 

And suddenly the metre between them is a few centimetres, Johnny’s face hovering above his as he pushes the sunglasses covering Taeyong’s eyes to rest on his bubblegum pink hair. The light floods his narrowing pupils instantaneously but it still doesn’t make the shock of seeing Johnny’s handsome face so close to him in full light any less breathtaking. 

“Whoever said you weren’t mine, baby.” They’re so close Taeyong can feel his breath ghost over his parted lips, a weak mimicry of the kiss he’d shared with Jongin not long ago. Just as quick as he’s there he’s pulling back again, one last glance before he’s letting himself out leaving Taeyong in the cold silence of the foyer.   
  
  


The whole of the next week sees Taeyong in a bad mood after having to sit high and woefully horny with Jongin and Sehun for another hour after Johnny had left.  He doesn’t think he’s been this sexually frustrated since he was a teenager, so much so he’s taken to beating one off in the bathroom at random times in the day before going back to prowling around the house like some malevolent spirit. If only Johnny knew just how much an effect his teasing had had on Taeyong, but alas there’s been no sign of him next door since the day he’d been at Jongin’s and so Taeyong is left to suffer on his own. At least Jongin’s stayed largely out of his way, probably fearful that Taeyong will snap at him, which is so far the only benefit Taeyong’s reaped.

The man of the house had left early a couple of days ago to catch a flight for another business trip so even if Taeyong had wanted to there’s no one available for a quick fuck to help Taeyong displace his tension, solely relying on the company of his right hand.

Taeyong’s lost track of which day he’s now on, lying on a floater on the pool with his eyes locked on the back facade of Johnny’s house for a sign of life. He’s been there since morning and now late afternoon is creeping up on him, the waning sun casting a shimmering glow on the water underneath him. Taeyong’s eyelids are narrowing, calm enough that he’s close to falling asleep when a light flicks on on Johnny’s second floor.

This is what Taeyong’s waiting for, suddenly wide awake at the opening. He lets himself drift back to the pool edge before clambering out careful not to get his outfit wet. The week apart had given enough time for Taeyong to think about his next move, his plan evolving a pretty set of pink lingerie he’d ordered and the bottle of lube he’d stashed under one of the poolside loungers that he’s now unearthing.

Eye’s locked on the still drawn curtains lit up by the soft glow of johnny’s top light, Taeyong positions himself with his spine resting against the back of the sofa, directly facing Johnny’s balcony with his legs arched at the knee and spread just enough to get a view of in between them. 

The panties he’s wearing are scant enough that he only has to pull the back to the side a little so his now wet fingers can reach his hole. Bored and horny, he’d already fingered himself this morning so he’s still loose enough to push two fingers inside without any difficulty, the lube spreading over his rim as he starts to scissor them.

Luckily, Taeyong only has to keep it his uninspired pace up for around five minutes before the curtains he’s had his eyes pinned on are drawing back revealing Johnny, still in the suit and tie he’d been wearing to wherever he’d just been, separated only by the pane of glass to his balcony. He doesn’t look surprised when he sees Taeyong dressed up and fingering himself as easily as if he were behind closed doors, maybe he’d expected Taeyong to try and pull something like this or maybe he’d just that collected that Taeyong will have to try harder to see him falter. 

So try harder he does, spreading his legs further so one hangs off the edge of his seat and pressing in a third finger. His head wants to tip back automatically at the sensation but Taeyong holds it as still as he can, determined not to be the first to break eye contact. Instead, his back arches elegantly forward, hand coming up from where it was gripping the seat cover to play with his nipple through the lace and mesh of his bralette. 

Taeyong thinks Johnny’s going to open the balcony door but his arms change direction last second, instead shrugging off his blazer and leaning against the glass, head tilted as he watches Taeyong’s fingers pump between his legs. It’s hard to see with the distance and the faint distortion of the glass but it looks like Taeyong’s plan is working, desire creeping on the man’s face as he holds himself as still as he can.

Taeyong’s fully hard now, pressing against the crotch of his panties but still fully covered. He’s so unbelievably turned on just from the slow drag of his fingers against his walls, clenching down each time they push back in. It’s the anticipation more than the actual sensation of his hands on himself that’s making him shake, the promise that if he keeps this up, keeps trying, then surely Johnny will finally reward him.

Eventually, it gets too much. As his fingertip barely misses his prostate Taeyong’s head arches back as he cries out, eyes slipping from Johnny as they automatically close. By the time he’s gathered himself enough to look back Johnny’s smiling, self-satisfied smirk that creeps over his face, down his arms and settles in the hands crossing over his broad chest.

Taeyong stares unmoving a little while longer counting his breaths,  _ one, two, three _ , and Johnny’s moving, peeling off the window like a snake till he’s out of Taeyong’s view. 

Was that what he was waiting for? Waiting for me to break? Taeyong thinks, moving slowly then all at once as he pulls his wet fingers from himself and lets his underwear shift back into place. Even walking on the balls of his feet, the sheer pink silk of his stockings dirties a little as he rushes inside and through the house, buzzing open the gate before he reaches the front door.

He paces a little in front of the door, unsure of whether to open it, perhaps it was presumptuous to even be sure Johnny would take the bait or just continue to tease but Johnny doesn’t let him worry too long. Taeyong takes a set forward subconsciously as the door pushes open, Johnny closing the door behind him but not making any further moves just watching, steady as ever, taking in the sight in front of him.

Taeyong wants to rush forward, he wants to run his hands over Johnny’s arms and stomach, feel his muscles tense under his fingertips, feel the power and strength coiling just beneath the surface of his careful veneer. But he holds himself back, fingers winding together behind his back so he can’t reach out.

“Pretty show you put on.” His voice is deep, contemplative, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Had you been waiting long, waiting for me to come back so you could show me that?”

Taeyong’s mouth hangs open, too bashful to admit the truth Johnny already knows, he’s a good liar but not good enough that he could say anything Johnny wouldn’t see right through.

“I've been wondering, Taeyong. About last time I was here.” Taeyong tries to keep his eyes locked on Johnny’s but they slip to where his fingers are playing with a ring on his left hand. “About how far you’d let me go. Would you have let me finger you under that table, make you come right in front of them?”

That gets him to look up, Johnny’s eyes are normally such a pretty brown but now they look almost completely black, pupils flooding his irises. And why hold back, Taeyong thinks, Johnny can already see every part of me so why not just lay it all bare.

“I would have let you fuck me, let you bend me over and make me scream while Jongin watched.”  Now when Johnny grins, Taeyong wants to smile with him but he's a little to jittery to manage it, instead staring wide-eyed and letting his fingers unravel ready to reach out as Johnny starts to walk forward.  “Would you? Would you fuck me? I dressed up so pretty for you, in pink like you said.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to beg.” One touch, the barest brush of skin over his exposed shoulder and Taeyong folds tumbling like a deck of cards just how Johnny wants him. 

Before he lets himself fall in too deep, Taeyong’s dragging Johnny up the stairs as far as his socked feet can manage without slipping all the way into his bedroom. As soon as Taeyong stops moving, Johnny takes over crowding Taeyong towards the end of the bed, hands finding purchase on his waist just before his calves can hit the furniture.

Taeyong’s not expecting Johnny to kiss him on the lips but here he is, mouth parting ever so slightly as he gasps. Johnny’s a demanding kisser as he is a person, comfortably leading the kiss as he steadies a rapidly spiraling Taeyong with one hand on his waist, fingers absently playing with the straps and frills of his garter belt. 

When Taeyong tries to crowd closer to Johnny, hands fisting on the crisp white front of his shirt, his grip tightens, fingers pressing punishingly into his flanks to control his movements. Maybe it’ll leave bruises. Taeyong moans at the thought, even as troublesome as it would be to hide them from Jongin, the idea of such visible marks of his transgressions is intoxicating.

A soft-touched hand is winding through the hair at the back of Taeyong’s head, oxymoronic to the one on his hip. It makes Taeyong whimper a little into Johnny’s mouth, how he can be so powerful yet gentle at the same time, fire and ice both burning and soothing Taeyong’s yielding frame.

It’s almost too difficult to pull his lips away from Johnny’s with the way he’s kissing him, the insistent press of his tongue against Taeyong’s own, but there’s other places Taeyong’s eager to get his mouth on. Intertwining his fingers with the ones Johnny has on his waist, Taeyong guides them up as he slips down to his knees, thin fabric mutely softening the sound as they hit the hardwood floor.

“Can I suck you off?” Taeyong doubts Johnny will say no, not with the way Taeyong’s wide eyes are looking up at him, hands creeping up to his muscular thighs but he wants to hear him say it, he wants to hear Johnny tell him how much he wants him, how much he desires him.

Johnny groans, jaw clenching a little and defining it’s sharp angle, “God, yes.” Thankfully, Johnny the one rushing to unbutton his pants, Taeyong likely would have struggled with the way he can’t look at his fly for more than a few seconds before he’s getting distracted by the way Johnny’s cock is pressing hard on the fabric, a hard outline that already has Taeyong’s mind drifting.

Trousers and underwear pushed down Johnny’s thighs just enough to have his cock springing out, Taeyong’s trying to surge forward, eyes locked on his leaking tip but Johnny’s holding him back, one hand gripping the hair on the crown of his head while the other holds the base of his cock, holding it just centimetres from Taeyong’s open mouth. 

“I thought about you like this, that first night at the gala. I thought about how gorgeous you looked in that suit, how you’d look if I got you out of it. Hell, I even dreamt about it.” When Taeyong looks up at Johnny he has an intense edge to his eyes, as if he’s somewhere far away yet unpiecing every part of Taeyong with a surgeon's precision at the same moment. “None of that compares to this though.”

Taeyong whimpers, Johnny’s words shaking him to his bones. The weak sound is enough to get Johnny’s attention, snapping him out of his daze as he takes a shallow step forward and weakens his hold in Taeyong’s hair just enough so he can lean forward and take the tip brushing against his bottom lip into his mouth. 

It’s barely anything, just the head, but it feels like everything to Taeyong, the heavy weight of Johnny’s cock resting on his tongue both satisfying Taeyong yet leaving him craving more and more as the salty taste fills his senses. He wants to push forward, take Johnny deep into his mouth so he’s forcing his way down his throat but Johnny won’t let him, teasing to the very last bone in his body as he anchors Taeyong’s head so close yet too far away.

At least with Johnny’s cock not filling his mouth properly he can still somewhat vocalise, moans and barely coherent plees reaching Johnny’s ears enough to have his control wavering, his fingers flexing a little in Taeyong’s pink strands as though he can’t quite make his mind up.

“So desperate aren’t you,” Johnny says as if his own voice isn’t as equally wrecked. “I suppose it’s my fault though, isn’t it, teasing a poor thing like you.”

Taeyong drags the tip if his tongue along Johnny’s slit as steady as he can before pulling back so the tip it just barely resting on his bottom lip, spreading his own saliva back onto his skin making the pink of his lips look glossy. 

“Please, Johnny, please give it to me. I’ve been thinking about you so long.”

Johnny groans, the hand in Taeyong’s hair carding through the short strands as if in reward. “So good Taeyong, I want to be the only one you think about.”

“You are, you are.” He can’t quite believe he’s saying it, can’t quite believe he’s ended up on his knees in his and his husband’s bedroom for another man but to say otherwise would be lying, the older man fills Taeyong’s thoughts practically every waking moment. Perhaps he can believe it rather easily. 

The confession seems to finally break Johnny’s resolve, his hips finally moving from where they were locked still and letting himself fill Taeyong’s waiting mouth. Taeyong’s eyes slide shut, head tilting back a litttle in ecstasy, Johnny’s setting the pace and Taeyong’s more than happy to allow him while he lets himself bask in the feeling a little longer, drool seeping from the edge of his mouth and dirtying his chin as he leaves himself wide and open for Johnny to use. 

As Johnny’s thrusts start to set a rhythm Taeyong comes back to earth a little, bobbing his head as he adjusts to the pace. With their combined efforts, Johnny’s hitting the back of Taeyong’s throat easily with each thrust, making him hold back his movements for Taeyong’s sake. It only serves to enthuse Taeyong more though, picking up to vigour that Johnny had let up as he starts to bob his head more and more.

Taeyong sucks him off like he has something to prove, wet and messy and obscenely loud. Perhaps he does have something to prove, prove to Johnny that he’s a worthy opponent to the game he’s been playing, that the endgame had been worth all the hot and cold.

For what it’s worth, Johnny seems pleased. His hips jolting intinctively but he seems more absorbed in watching Taeyong’s show, like he had been earlier, than anything else. It’s more a struggle than it should be but the sight that greets Taeyong is more than worth it. His eyes are locked on Taeyong’s mouth where it’s wrapped lazily around his cock, eyes lidded and dark as he runs his hand through Taeyong’s hair like he’s petting him. 

The way he’s watching him with such obvious desire makes Taeyong squirm, thighs clenching as if it’ll relieve any of the tension in his own cock trapped pitifully under his panties. It barely does but Taeyong’s too scared he’ll crumble if he unlatches his grip on Johnny’s trousers to touch himself properly. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed to johnny who brings his socked foot to press against his bulge, grinning as Taeyong whines even louder.

“The things I’d do to you if you were mine,” Johnny mutters but Taeyong still hears it clear as day, cutting through the ringing in his ears.

Taeyong pulls off, leaning his cheek against Johnny’s clothed thigh, replacing his mouth with his shaky hand pulling long stroked on johnny’s length. “Tell me.”

“I’d buy you whatever you want, take you whereever you want. I’d love you right, not keep you hidden away like Jongin does. You’re so wasted on him.” Johnny knocks Taeyong’s hand away, guiding his dick into Taeyong’s gaping mouth. “I’d fuck you properly, fuck you so hard you’d never think of another man the way you think about me, leave you so ruined you’ll barely be able to move after.”

He’s not holding back now, fucking Taeyong’s mouth rellentlessly while Taeyong tries not to gag, half choked moans filling the room. It’s so good, everything Taeyong’s been dreaming about, Johnny using him and filling every part of him that felt so painfully empty.

“Such a shame your his,” Johnny mutters. “You’d still give it to me anyway though wouldn’t you, slut?”

Taeyong cries, pulling off Johnny despite the hald guiding him the other way. The spit that had spilled over onto Taeyong’s lips creates a thin line connecting him to the red tip of Johnny’s cock. “Yes, yes, please fuck me, please-“

“Fuck, Taeyong. Get on the bed.” Taeyong’s thighs are shaking, his knees aching, but it doesn’t stop him from rushing up and arranging himself on the crisp white sheets, settling himself back on his knees, torso just held up by his bent arms. When he looks around over his shoulder to where he was just sat, Johnny’s still there, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as he makes his way to the other man.

“No, not like that.” Taeyong frowns as Johnny speaks, pushing his ass out a little more as if it means to question him. “On your back, I want to see you properly.”

Taeyong flushes despite himself but still flips over, air escaping the pillows as his head hits them softly. Johnny smiles as he watches Taeyong play with the little bow at the centre of his bralette demurely as if his legs aren’t arched and spread to expose himself. 

“You look so stunning, all for me, right?” Johnny says, crawling onto the bed between Taeyong’s legs, that same look filling his eyes as his hands trail up his legs till they’re playing with the garter at Taeyong’s thigh, letting the frilled edge stretch out then snap back against Taeyong’s skin leaving a faint red trace.

“ _ Yes _ , for you.” Taeyong’s hand reaches down to hold Johnny’s, dragging it along the inside of his thigh till he can press his palm against the bulge under his panties, Johnny’s fingertips curling around the hem as Taeyong pushes his hand down gently on top of his. “Only you.”

Johnny’s smile is so pretty, but the way his feline lips curl when he’s grinning makes Taeyong’s breath catch. He feels like the mouse caught in a cat’s grasp, both predatory and playful.

As Johnny’s fingers slip further and further beyond his waistband, Taeyong lets his hand drift, latching on the Johnny’s unbuttoned shirt that still floats around his torso to tug him down, incessant little noises flowing from his mouth till Johnny’s arm comes to frame his face and he leans towards his lips, right where Taeyong wants him. Taeyong lets him do as he pleases, letting his mouth lie ajar as Johnny’s teeth drag across his bottom lip, biting down gently making them flush even redder.

With Johnny keeping his lips from shutting there’s nothing stopping the mewls that rip from his throat as Johnny’s hand finally slips under the fabric and his fingers curl around his leaking cock. Slow teasing tugs that make Taeyong’s hips buck up, trying to chase his hand but Johnny’s holding back, intent on dragging Taeyong’s pleasure out as long as possible till he's a whimpering mess.

His hand pulls off at the same time that his mouth starts to wander, tongue slipping from Taeyong’s mouth the press wet kisses down his neck to his collarbone, next to where the strap rests against his skin. Before Taeyong can start complaining though, his fingertips are moving the thin piece of fabric between his ass so it’s pulled aside to rest on one of his cheeks, exposing his hole, still a little wet and puckered from earlier.

Johnny’s warm kisses are lost from Taeyong’s chest as he leans back to sit on his thighs, one hand circling his petit waist as the other traces his rim, eyes locked on the way he clenches ever so slightly with each brush of Johnny’s fingertip. “Have you done this often, touch yourself whilst you’re thinking about me?”

“Mmm,” Taeyong’s hand slips off the cotton sheets to play with his nipple through the lace of his bra. “I fingered myself this morning, right here. I thought about how it would feel if it was you, how much bigger your fingers would be.”

Johnny swears under his breath, the hand at his waist tightening and scrunching up the delicate mesh frills edging his garter belt. “That’s what you want, huh? My fingers fucking you, stretching you open?”

“ _ Please _ , I’ve waited so long.” His fingers tug at his nipple particularly hard, his nails dragging on the stitchwork.

“I suppose you have been patient, I should reward you.” 

Taeyong can’t get out another word before Johnny’s pointer finger is pushing into him, the slide is easily where his walls are still wet and pliant from Taeyong’s own fingers earlier. Johnny barely bothers pumping his digit a few times, purely just to slowly drag the rough pad of his finger against Taeyong’s insides and watch him squirm, before he’s adding a second one alongside the first.

It already feels different to Taeyong, his fingers rougher and wider against his sensitive walls than his own, Johnny’s knuckles catching against his rim with each thrust. Taeyong feels a little like he’s dreaming, letting his head push into the soft down of his pillows whilst his hips try to move down on Johnny’s fingers in time to how they’re pushing in. It’s far better than any of his fantasies though, his daydreams feel weak compared to how Johnny’s fingers are making him feel, powerful pleasure filling his entire body.

As Taeyong starts to get looser, Johnny’s thrusts start to become for precise, targeting something he’s only yet brushed against. Johnny’s fingers are long, criminally so, so it doesn’t take long for him to find Taeyong’s sweet spot, looking pleased with himself as Taeyong’s back arches and his voice raises a pitch, broken pieces of Johnny’s name spilling from his lips.

Once he’s found his prostate, Johnny seems determined not to let his fingertips stray too far, continuing to drag against it with each push of his fingers inwards. His third finger slips in aided by the lube Taeyong had left there from easier and Johnny’s movements only become more visious, less stretching Taeyong and more torturing him, pushing him closer and closer the the edge with just his fingers and relishing in the breatheless cries Taeyong can no longer quieten.

“Ah, Johnny, slow down I’m close.” Taeyong barely manages a complete sentence around his gasps and moans but his pleas don’t do anything to diswade Johnny’s movments, if anything they just get more enthusiastic, the cruel press on his fingers intensifying.

“You think I’m make you wait this long only to make you come once?” Johnny’s leaning down, kissing the corner of Taeyong’s mouth. “You can come now, Taeyong, don’t worry. You can come on my cock later too can’t you?”

“Johnny-” Taeyong wants to watch Johnny so badly but the sensations are too much that he can’t control the way his eyes scrunch shut as his hips stutter upwards.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? To let me ruin you on my cock till you can barely move. Can you feel how hard I am for you?” Johnny’s boxers are pulled back up over his leaking cock but Taeyong can still perfectly feel the solid length of him, the wet patch his tip has left as Johnny graps the hand lying stationary in the sheets and pushes it against himself.

His fingers a shaking a little, trying to reach out and grab but his orgasm’s already shaking his body, all the strength left in him leaving as he comes inside the pink lace. Taeyong supposes he’d have black spots in his vision if he could open his eyes from where they’re tightly scrunched shut, his mouth gaping letting loud cries escape all the while Johnny’s fingers keep massaging his spot, barely thrusting anymore just a steady intense pressure inside of Taeyong.

He’s panting as he starts to come down, heavy breaths making his chest heave but he isn't able to catch them, not with the way Johnny’s still inside of him, every touch sending electric shocks up his spine from his oversensitivity.

“So pretty, Taeyong. You did so well for me.” Johnny’s voice is smooth, it makes Taeyong’s insides feel warm with how pleased Johnny sounds. It makes Taeyong want more and he tells Johnny just as much.

Johnny laughs a little, a sweet sound that feels soft to Taeyong’s still ringing ears. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you more.” His fingers are pulling out gently and pressing on Taeyong’s bottom lip, a silent request to clean them. Taeyong’s too dazed to do anything else but open his mouth and suck, barely registering the taste as Johnny’s fingers rest heavy on his tongue.

“Where’s your lube?” Johnny asks. Taeyong would whine that Johnny’s fingers are no longer filling his mouth, fillng anything but he the knowledge that there’s better things to come stops him.

“Bottom draw.” His head tilts to the bedside table and Johnny moves to riffle through it quickly. Taeyong’s hands still feel weak, a little shaky as he tries to tug at his now wet panties but the garter and stockings are in the way, stopping him from tugging them down his legs. Johnny smacks his hands away when he comes back, making Taeyong whine but then his forearms are tensing as he’s ripping the lace so he can remove the ruined fabric from Taeyong’s body without messing up the rest of the set.

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you more.” Taeyong’s not exactly mourning them, his come had already ruined them anyway, but he can’t help smile coyly at Johnny’s promise.

A little strength gained, Taeyong props himself up on his forearms to watch as Johnny removes his clothes properly, salivating a little as the white of his shirt slowly peels back to reveal his toned chest and the muscled tone of his arms. Taeyong probably looks like a doll next to him, small and breakable, the thought’s already arousing him, so quickly after he just came it makes his head feel airy.

Johnny’s cock looks angry when he finally gets it out of his pants again, the tip red and leaking as Johnny tugs himself, fingers tracing the veins lining the underside. It speaks volumes of his self control, his single minded focus as he pushed Taeyong to his completion while ignoring his own.

“You don’t need a condom.” Taeyong surprises himself with the urgency of his voice, it has Johnny looking up, raising an eyebrow but stopping halfway through reaching for one. “I mean, I’m clean and if you are too I want you come inside me.”

“Would you like that? Me filling you up, leaving you wet and sloppy?” He must notice the way Taeyong’s dick twitches as he doesn’t press him for an answer. Instead, moving back inbetween Taeyong’s thighs and pushing him back into the sheets with a wide hand on his shoulder.

Taeyong can’t see it but he can feel it as Johnny lines up to his hole, the lube and precome feels slick and wet against his rim as Johnny’s tip is guided towards his opening. And all of a sudden he’s pushing in, one steady stroke till he’s fully sheathed, Taeyong’s walls fluttering around him yet not able to clench down fully.

“You’re so tight, when’s the last time he fucked you?” Taeyong doesn’t feel tight, not after the way Johnny’s fingers were prying him apart but god, Johnny feels big so that must make up for it.

“After that party.” Johnny pulls all the way out just to fuck back in again, making Taeyong’s voice cut off with a moan. “He fucked me over the kitchen counter, all I could think about was if it was you.”

Johnny groans, his hips stuttering before they start to move properly, powerful thrusts that would have had Taeyong’s little being pushed up the bed if it weren’t for the way his legs dart up to wrap around Johnny’s waist, Johnny’s hands gripping his thighs. He picks up his pace quickly, hard and fast in a way that has Taeyong’s head going blank, only able to focus on the other man’s hands on him, his dick railing into him.

Taeyong’s loud, cries and moans bouncing off the walls where he’s too fucked out already to even close him mouth, not quite loud enough though that he can’t hear Johnny’s almost animalistic pants and grunts above him, and the dirty, wet sound Johnny cock is making inside of him.

His hand slips back down to his already fully hard cock and this time Johnny doesn’t bother slapping his hand away, far too interested in the mewls Taeyong’s making as his thumb runs along his slit, playing with the wet mess that clinging to it. Johnny’s own hand comes down, but not to join him. Instead he’s guiding Taeyong’s now wet fingers up to his mouth, urging Taeyong to lick them clean. Taeyong can barely close his mouth, spit already leaking from the corner of his mouth down his cheek but he wants to please Johnny, see his reaction when he sucks his fingers into his own mouth and tastes himself. 

It’s sloppy, less Taeyong sucking his fingers and more the movement of Johnny’s hips making his arm shake and fuck his fingers into his open mouth, white mess transferring from his fingertips to paint his tongue. Johnny looks pleased with his efforts, at least Taeyong thinks he does, too fucked out to decipher too many complex emotions on Johnny’s face.

“You’re so perfect for me, Taeyong. So stunning.” Johnny’s hand slides under his thighto press it upwards onto Taeyong’s chest, leaning back a little to watch the easy slide of his cock into Taeyong’s hole, his rim now red an puffy from the friction. “Wish you belonged to me, wish I could do this to you on my own bed, ruin you for anyone else but me.”

Taeyong’s so overwhelmed, his already sensitive body dialed up to 100 that all he can do is lie back and take it as Johnny fucks him roughly into the sheets. Taeyong’s flexible but the force that Johnny’s able to hold his thigh up has the muscle aching, a deep satisfying burn that makes Taeyong groan and in turn drives Johnny to go harder.

“Ah, so good, so good, Jongin never fucked me as good as you.” Taeyong babbles, barely aware of his own words

“Did your husband not teach you any manners? So filthy, talking about another man when I’m 8 inches deep in you.” He slows down a little then pushes back in punishingly hard right where he knows Taeyong’s prostate is and Taeyong’s practically screaming. “I’m all you should be thinking about, darling.”

And god, he is. With the way his cock is stretching Taeyong out, the way his hands are gripping his skin like he owns him, the way his kisses leave wet marks all down his neck and sternum Taeyong can barely think of anything else but  _ Johnny _ .

Johnny’s rearranging his leg so it’s bent over Johnny’s shoulder, the pretty pink of his stocking looking brighter against Johnny’s warm toned bare skin so his hand is now free to explore Taeyong’s pliant body. His fingers immediately seek out Taeyong’s nipples, pulling one side of his bralette down so the strap falls down his shoulder, embellished lace no longer covering him.

His nipples are a little pink from where Taeyong had been agitating the delicate skin through the fabric, inviting in Johnny’s own larger ones to toy with them, pulling moans closer to squeaks from Taeyong’s lips. The assault on his senses is so overwhelming that Taeyong doesn’t know whether his body is telling him to pull Johnny closer or push him away, instead all he can manage is to arch his back in the sheets and clench down around Johnny’s length spearing into him.

When Johnny detaches his mouth from where it’s latched onto Taeyong’s sharp jaw, the sight of the smaller boy almost makes him come on the spot. The expensive outfit decorating his body only exaggerates his inherently provocative nature, originally so well assembled and now halfway destroyed by Johnny’s searching hands. The light pink of his hair and lingerie making the flush on his cheeks paint him brighter, the bitten red of his lips more inviting.

It’s intoxicating, seeing the normally so well put together man, the image of class and opulency, broken down into the whimpering mess underneath him, taking his cock like it’s the only thing he knows. But then again Taeyong’s always seems like the type to indulge himself, to experience everything lavishly and the way he uses his body, or rather lets his body be used is no exception.

“I’m close,” Johnny manages to say between deep breaths. Taeyong is much more wrecked though and can barely manage a response more than a few moans, too caught up in his headspace.

“Inside?” Taeyong’s eyes are massive, irises swallowed by the black of his pupils.

“Want me to come in your sloppy hole? Fuck my come so deep into it’ll still be dripping out days later for your husband to see?” Taeyong wails, tears lining his waterline from pleasure as his hand shoots down to fist his cock, no longer able to hold off.

“Will you come for me, baby? You’ve been doing so well, you can come for me again can’t you?” And Taeyong does, his entire body tensing as he releases onto his stomach and all over his hand. Johnny knocks it off where he’s still weakly jerking himself, tugging him roughly to the same pace of his thrusts as he fucks Taeyong through his orgasm, relishing in the high pitched whines as Johnny uses his sensitive hole.

Taeyong seems too tired now to clench down on Johnny’s cock, walls fluttering as he ruts into him. It only takes a few more thrusts before he’s coming too, driven over the edge by Taeyong’s come slick fingers creeping up to fill his mouth, licking his own release where it’s webbing in between them.

Taeyong’s sweat-dampened fringe bounces over his forehead as Johnny uses his lax body to chase his own pleasure, a tired but gratified look on his face as he tries to catch his breath. His whole body looks like it’s glowing as Johnny paints his insides white, little trickles of come escaping his rim as Johnny slowly pulls out, letting Taeyong finally crumple into the sheets below.

Johnny’s hand strokes Taeyong’s cheeks, trying to draw some attention from his glazed over eyes. “You did so well, Taeyong. Are you okay?”

There’s a delay but Taeyong answers, his voice rough yet clear. “Mm, more than okay.”

Lowering back to his knees between Taeyong’s thighs, he slowly lifts Taeyong’s leg off his shoulder, tracing the little ladders growing where he’d ripped holes into the delicate mesh. Taeyong’s legs stay spread, all too easy for Johnny to watch as his come leaks slowly from his swollen hole, so well used it can’t quite close. Johnny could hold himself back from pushing the white mess back into him from where it’s dripping onto the bed but he doesn’t really want to.

“You’d better clean me up, Johnny. Jongin will be back tonight and I never know when his flights are running early.” 

“I’d better.” Johnny kisses the inside of his thigh as he unclips the stockings from their belt and pulls then slowly down Taeyong’s long legs. “I’d have some explaining to do if your husband saw us like this.”

Taeyong matches his playful grin, pulling him up by his neck to kiss him dirtily before leaning just an inch away. “It’s okay, you can talk your way out of anything, though, I’m not sure I’d want you to.”

**Author's Note:**

> i like happy endings so lets say johnyong fall in love and run away together or something romantic hehe
> 
> i tried to write this a little grittier(??) than my other writing so pls tell me if it worked, also writing jongin topping was WEIRD for me my bookmarks speak for themselves lmao
> 
> pls come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fivebiessings) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/fivebiessings) lets be friends :)))))


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